After all there had been a silver lining to the cloud under which she
had lain so long. Others had acted for her. It had been a rest. But,
conscious of her innocence, and serene in that consciousness, she had
prepared herself rather for another life than for a new lease of this
one; and, while seeking to steel her soul to the awful sequel of a
conviction, in the other direction she had seldom looked beyond the
consummate incident of an acquittal. Life seems a royal road when it is
death that stares one in the face; but already Rachel saw the hills and
the pitfalls; for indeed they began under her nose.

She had no plans, nor a single soul to help her to make any. In all the
world she had no real friend. And yet, with the very independence to
which this isolation was largely due, she must pick and choose, and
reject, in the hour when any friend would have been better than none!

In the first ten minutes of the new life which Rachel Minchin began with
her acquittal, she had refused to see her own solicitor, and an unknown
gentleman whose card was brought to her by the Chief Warder himself.
With the card was a message which might have inspired confidence, and
the same might be said of the address. But it was enough for Rachel that
she knew no one of the name. The Chief Warder, one of the kindliest
mortals, displayed no little irritation under her repeated refusals; but
it was the agent, and not the principal, who was so importunate; and the
message was not repeated once the former could be induced to bear Mrs.
Minchin's answer. The Chief Warder did indeed return, but it was not to
make any further reference to the mysterious Mr. Steel who had craved an
interview with Mrs. Minchin. And now the good fellow was all smiles.

"Feeling more yourself?" said he; and, when Rachel said she was, he